


Bad Ending

by isTrash



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Enemies, More tags to be added, Multi, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-07-07 08:50:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15904947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isTrash/pseuds/isTrash
Summary: Soon after Michael had told him to give him some space (which basically meant, “leave me the fuck alone, Jeremy,”) Jeremy had fallen into a deep depression.(inspired by the Be Less Single Michael bad ending, because that's the only ending I can seem to fucking get (it's driving me crazy too))





	1. michael fucking mell

**Author's Note:**

> so! be less single. a great game! but also really hecking sad and depressing.. I CANNOT GET MICHAEL TO LOVE ME! HELP!

Soon after Michael had told him to give him some space (which basically meant, “leave me the fuck alone, Jeremy,”) Jeremy had fallen into a deep depression. No longer with Michael to keep him grounded like he had before when he felt bad, soon his depression turned into full on suicidal thoughts. He hardly ate, barely got a wink of sleep, and never stopped thinking about how much of a fuck up he was.

The SQUIP wasn't much help. It often didn't say much of anything, actually. Though, that may've been due to the fact that Jeremy only shut it off every time.

Eventually, he got his hands on some Mountain Dew Red. Only that time, he didn't hesitate to drink it. He'd woken up, in his bathroom with a huge migraine. He figured it was a step up from the hospital though.

He hadn't noticed that his self pitying had attracted so much attention though. When people stopped murmuring about ecstasy around him everywhere he went, people started murmuring rumors about his depression. He'd almost thrown up the day he'd heard the first rumor.

People he may have considered friends a month or two ago came up to him hesitantly, asking him how he was at first. He either ignored them or snapped at them, saying he was fine.

Even Michael had given him looks. Michael who he had been ignoring by his wishes. They weren't pitying looks. They were thoughtful. And worried. But mainly regretful.

One day, Christine came up to him between periods, and without saying anything, gave him a hug.

After the initial shock of the unexpected contact had worn off, he felt himself melt into the comforting shared touch of another person.

She looked him in the eyes and wordlessly slipped a piece of paper into the palm of his hand. “You don't have to say or tell me anything,” she said calmly. “But I don't want to have to see you suffer in silence alone. Call me.”

Then the bell rang, and Jeremy sprinted to his next class. A class that had Michael in it.

Jeremy didn't call her at first; didn't even think he ever would. But then one, long, self loathing night, he had come as close as ever to committing suicide. He'd tied himself a noose out of his bedsheets, trying to hang himself in his closet like he'd read online. He'd thought he'd gotten it to work, but as soon as he took a step off of his stool, the bed sheets came undone.

He couldn't even die right.

He broke out into sobs right there and then. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe-

Christine, he thought. Christine, Christine, Christine, Christine, Christine.

In a blinded stupor, he got the scrap of paper with Christine's number on it and got his phone.

He typed in her number, not even thinking about how late it was.

After a few rings, Christine picked up. “Hello?” a groggy voice on the other line asked.

“C-Christine,” Jeremy hiccuped. “I-I fucked u-up. Bad.”

“Jeremy?” she asked, her voice waking up in an instant.

“Jeremy, what happened?”

Jeremy breathed heavily. “I-I… I made a-a n-noose, Christine. I tried t-to hang m-myself.”

He heard her gasp on the other line. “That's it, I'm calling 911-”

“No!” Jeremy exclaimed. He quieted, definitely not wanting to wake up his dad. “No,” he repeated quietly, but firmness filled his words. “I'm f-fine now.”

He heard a pause on the other side. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Jeremy huffed a laugh. “I… actually kinda do,” he said softly.

So they did. They spent the whole night talking, just ranting and raving. And it felt… better. Jeremy felt better than he had in a long time, better than he had in… ever, really. Even before the SQUIP he'd been filled with negative feelings of self deprecation and a sense of fault that his mother had left. But now, he felt okay, for the first time in probably nine years.

The next day at school, the two of them were both tired as fuck, but they both shared smiles in passing, and Christine even sat down at lunch with him.

“You never took up my offer on Wicked,” she said with a smile, pulling her phone and earbuds out of her backpack. She gave one bud to him and pulled up Wicked on her Spotify playlist.

They spent lunch listening to the music and laughing to each other's comments regarding said music.

Their system continued after that.

Christine got him hooked on shows like Falsettos, Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, Heathers, Newsies, Rent, The Book Of Mormon, Les Misérables, and Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812. Even the smaller ones that were less heard of were introduced to him.

And eventually, Christine began to fill the Michael shaped void in Jeremy's heart. Of course, Jeremy could never forget twelve (would've been thirteen) years of friendship in the span of three months. But she helped.

They both held fundraisers to help get enough funds for the Spring play. And eventually, by the time January came rolling around, they had raised 20,000 dollars towards the play.

The play was Little Shop Of Horrors, and Christine convinced Jeremy to audition for Seymour.

“Who'll you be trying out for then?” Jeremy asked.

“Audrey, of course!”

Jeremy bit his lip. “Wouldn't it be awkward though… me playing your love interest?”

Christine laughed like that was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. “No, Jeremy! Not at all!”

And she was right. When they'd been cast as their assigned roles (both landing lead) it wasn't awkward at all! They both had probably the best time of their lives going to play rehearsal together.

They both spent more time out together rehearsing lines than ever. By the time April came around, they were both ready.

The first night wasn't as packed as it had been in November, but still a lot of people came, only really to see if everyone would overdose on ecstasy again.

But when the show was over, everyone who had came were actually pleasantly surprised; it was pretty good! So gradually, more people came. Every night, more people came than the last night. Eventually, tickets sold out.

At the end of every night, Jeremy and Christine would get the most round of applause, seen as they were lead. And it made Jeremy happier than he thought he could.

One night, after the final bows were taken, and it was time for the cast to interact with the audience, Jeremy felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, and instantly felt the need to throw up.

Michael.

Michael was standing behind him, smiling sheepishly. “You did really good, Jeremy-”

“Fuck off, Michael.”

Michael sighed. “Jeremy,” he tried.

“What?” Jeremy snapped. “What do you want?”

Michael bit his lip. “I want to talk, Jeremy.”

Jeremy let out a barking laugh. “I don't think so!”

Michael looked offended. “What? Why not?”

Jeremy looked around and groaned exasperatedly. He took Michael by the forearm and tugged him along. “Not here,” he explained.

He opened the door from the school's theater and entered an abandoned hallway.

“Why don't you wanna talk?” Michael asked.

Instantly, the remaining bits of Jeremy's good mood disappeared. “Okay, fine, I'll tell you why! First of all, after I made an actual attempt at making it up to you and trying to piece our relationship back together, you come up to me and say, ‘hey, you're still an asshole!’. How am I supposed to respond to that?! I tried and tried and tried to make myself better for you but nothing was good enough! Second of all, even after how I revealed how shitty and depressed I have felt all of my life, you up and leave me right when I needed you the most! You made me feel awful! I was borderline suicidal! Hell, I even tried to kill myself! Third of all, why are you coming back into my life now? Right when I'm finally happy for the first time in nine years? Right when I'm finally around someone positive and caring and supportive!”

Jeremy looked up from his crying to see Michael gaping at him. “I didn't know you felt this way…”

Jeremy felt his face go red. He crossed his arms and glared at the floor. “Well now you do.”

“Jeremy-”

“Just leave,” he snapped.

“But Jeremy-”

“Did you fucking hear me or not?” Jeremy swore. “Leave.”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “Fine. I'll leave,” he hissed. “Oh, and Jeremy?” Michael added. Jeremy didn't look up. “You're still a fucking asshole.”

Jeremy heard Michael's loud footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. Soon after Michael left, Jeremy couldn't contain himself. He collapsed onto a locker, falling to the ground, hugging himself and balling himself up. He sobbed loud, shaky sobs, that shook his whole body to the core.

After a few minutes, he heard the door to the school auditorium open into the hallway.

“Jeremy?” a cautious, familiar voice called out.

Jeremy tried to reply but a sob escaped him. He felt someone sit down next to him a few seconds later, rubbing his back and helping him through his distress.

“Are you okay?” Christine asked.

Jeremy didn't answer. He only buried his head into the crook of her neck, sobbing pitifully.

“It's okay. It's okay Jeremy. You're going to get through it. I promise.”

And he did. He was a wreck for the next few days, almost unable to perform the last night. But he did.

Eventually, the year passed, and then the next year did too. He gradually stopped running into Michael in the hallways more and more until he never did.

He patched everything up with everyone. He apologized for his actions while his former bullies did as well. It was safe to say that they were all at least close-acquaintances.

He scored 1530 on his SATs and a 33 on his ACTs, thanks to his many months of studying with Christine in preparation of the tests.

He got a scholarship for Montclair State University.

Christine had scored a 1160 on her SATs, and a 34 on her ACTs.

She'd gotten a scholarship for Boston Conservatory. Her dream school.

She wanted to be an actress. And now was her chance!

They were both sad to be separated like they were, but they promised to keep in contact.

 

“Welcome to Johns Hopkins University!” The girl at the Residence Life check-in desk smiled. “Can I get your name?”

Jeremy smiled. “Jeremiah W. Heere,” he said, giving the girl the requested information.

He still couldn't believe he was here! It was like a dream come true, really.

She flashed a pearly smile at him and marked his name off the roster. “You are on the fourth floor, so head on up there and your RA James will get you taken care of. Here's your lanyard, bumper sticker, mug, and planner. May I get your T-shirt size?”

“Medium, thanks.”

After receiving his bag full of freebies, Jeremy walked towards the elevators. He pushed the button for the fourth floor, going through his stuff to see what all was in there. The elevator doors opened to the fourth floor, and Jeremy put his stuff away. He walked out of the elevator with a smile and headed towards the RA's open door.

  
He walked into his dorm with a bright smile on his face and admired the place. It wasn't much; the room walls were thin and coated with beige wallpaper. There were two small twin sized beds, with one right against the wall and the other shoved up against the window. There were two dressers next to the entrance door, and a desk tucked between the two beds, along with another desk next to the bed with no window. There was a lamp with a broken lampshade on one of the two dressers.

Jeremy walked over to the bed next to the window. He laid his box of his stuff onto the bed and began to unpack. He put up his movie, video game, and musical posters along with his collection of playbills he'd acquired over the years on the walls. He hung up his pictures of him and Christine on the walls, and sat one picture of a young Jeremy with a young Michael on the desk next to his bed.

He was beginning to unpack his video games when he heard the door open. He heard a gasp as whatever they were holding fell to the ground.

“Hey!- Woah, are you okay…” Jeremy asked turning around, faltering when he saw who it was who'd entered the room.

Michael. Fucking. Mell.


	2. talk it out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No! Christine, you don't understand! He's my fucking roommate!” Jeremy hissed into his phone. He was sat on his bed in shock while Michael had run to the RA to demand that he change roommates. Right now, Jeremy was waiting for Michael to come back, to be given the news that they wouldn't have to share a dorm together.
> 
> “Language!” Christine scolded.
> 
> “Sorry,” Jeremy said automatically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter took so long, i was having a bit of a writer's block writing this. i'm not completely satisfied with this, but i hope you enjoy this chapter despite what i think of it :)

 “No! Christine, you don't understand! He's my fucking _roommate_!” Jeremy hissed into his phone. He was sat on his bed in shock while Michael had run to the RA to demand that he change roommates. Right now, Jeremy was waiting for Michael to come back, to be given the news that they wouldn't have to share a dorm together.

 

  
“Language!” Christine scolded.

  
“Sorry,” Jeremy said automatically.

  
He heard Christine sigh. “It's okay. Anyways, that sucks Jeremy. But maybe now's your chance to talk it out with each other!”

  
“Honestly, Chris… the idea of talking to him actually repulses me,” Jeremy said sardonically.

  
Christine tried to argue, but then Michael came storming in.

  
Jeremy cut Christine off swiftly. “Gotta go, Christine. Bye.” Then he hung up.

  
“So?” Jeremy addressed Michael impatiently.

  
“They said ‘There's nothing we can do’!” Michael said bitterly.

  
Jeremy groaned. “Great. God just really loves fucking me over.”

  
“You're Jewish.”

  
“Exactly,” Jeremy deadpanned.

  
They stared at each other for a moment unwavering, loathing for each other basking in their eyes.

  
“Go pick up your shit,” Jeremy told Michael. Michael rolled his eyes.

  
“Did your girlfriend turn you into a middle-aged mother?”

  
Jeremy glared at Michael. “Christine's not my girlfriend,” Jeremy replied vehemently.

  
“Oh really?” Michael challenged. He crossed his arms. “Then what did it mean when you practically sang Christine's name every day?”

  
Jeremy felt his face go red. “It was a stupid crush! You and I both know that,” he said defensively.

  
Michael snorted and muttered something under his breath. He strode to where his things had fallen to the floor from his dramatic entrance.

  
Jeremy got up from his bed, grabbing his keys from the desk by his bed. He scooted past Michael to the door, making sure not to come in contact with the Filipino.

  
“Where are you going?” Michael asked from the floor.

  
“Out,” Jeremy replied. He placed his hand on the doorknob, stilling slightly. “And don't expect me back anytime soon, too,” he added as an afterthought.

  
“Great, now I can get high in peace without having to be bothered by your sorry ass.”

  
“What's that supposed to mean?”

  
“Oh, nothing,” Michael said mockingly.

  
“Just don't make the room smell like incense. This isn't your basement,” Jeremy said. “I live here too.”

  
“Sadly,” Michael sighed.

  
Jeremy ignored him. His hand tightened on the doorknob as he opened the door, making sure to slam it shut on his way out.  
 

* * *

It wasn't until three AM when he went back. Michael was passed out on his bed, the smell of weed filling the air. Jeremy groaned internally. Only just the first day there, and immediately his things were covered with the smell of pot.

  
Jeremy stripped himself of his clothes, leaving him in only underwear. He climbed into bed, pulling his covers over him miserably.

 

* * *

  
“College is awesome,” Christine said happily “I only had three classes today. I didn't have to go in until ten, and now it's four and I'm done with everything! How cool is that?”

  
Jeremy didn't respond, too busy reading his biology textbook.

  
“Jeremy! I _said_ , how cool is that?”

  
“Fantastic.” Jeremy ran his highlighter across the page.

  
“Are you even listening to me?”

  
Jeremy sighed and finally looked away. “Look, sorry Chris, but I have two problem sets for Calc II and fifty pages to read by Wednesday. Didn't your teachers give you any homework?”

  
“Nope!”

  
Jeremy ignored her. He held his phone to his ear more securely and bit his lip. “Sorry, Chris. I'm being an asshole. But I guess I'm just stressed. I mean, ever since Michael walked into the dorm I've been on edge. But I really need to study. Sorry,” he added again, apologetically.

  
He heard Christine sigh dramatically and flop onto her bed. “It's fine,” she said gloomily. “I'll just bother my roommate, Clarissa!”

  
Jeremy snorted. “Whatever you want, Chris.”

  
He could practically see Christine sticking her tongue out at him. “Bye! Love ya, Jere!”

  
“Love you too Christine,” Jeremy said fondly, a lazy smile on his face.

  
They both hung up, and almost as if on cue, Michael walked through the door, his knees bouncing as he listened to his playlist, a 7-11 slushy in his hand. Jeremy rolled his eyes at the sight and went back to his homework.

  
Then Michael began to sing.

  
At first, not wanting to be a dick for once, Jeremy waited for the song to pass. However, Michael didn't stop. Even after Jeremy knew that the song was over, Michael kept singing.

  
Jeremy felt frustrated enough to snap his pencil in half. “Michael,” he tried.

  
“Michael!”

  
Jeremy huffed. “ _Michael!_ ”

  
Finally, Michael stopped. “What?!” Michael snarled. He took off his headphones, hanging them around his neck.

  
Jeremy glared at him. “I'm doing my work.”

  
Michael raised an eyebrow. “So?”

  
“So, I would appreciate it if you didn't. Fucking. Sing.”

  
Michael rolled his eyes. “Again, I don't see your point. You have the SQUIP to help you with that shit.”

Jeremy furrowed his brows. “No, I don't!”

  
Michael looked to him like a camera in The Office.

  
“It's true!”

  
Michael smirked, shaking his head. “Whatever,” he said lazily. “Anyways, I might be going to the gaming club tonight. Wanna come? Or are you too addicted to working to have fun?” Michael asked mockingly.

  
Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “I'll pass.”

  
For a second, Michael looked shocked. “Really? I mean, I thought you would've been all over this.”

  
Jeremy shrugged. He tried to get back to his homework, but Michael persisted.

  
“I mean unless the SQUIP really did change you—”

  
“I'm going to the library,” Jeremy announced abruptly, cutting Michael off.

  
“But—”

  
But Jeremy had already collected his things and left.

 

* * *

  
When Jeremy came back from studying, Michael was still awake. He was working in his hoodie and boxers, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

  
Jeremy froze awkwardly by the door.

  
“Hey,” Michael said casually like they hadn't been going to war with each other two hours ago.

  
“Uh, hey.”

  
Michael looked up from his textbook. Jeremy could feel his breath catch. He looked so serene and peaceful at that moment that Jeremy wished he had his phone on him to capture the moment forever.

  
Thoughts like those were normal for Jeremy. He'd never fully gotten over his crush for Michael, no matter how much Jeremy had filled the Michael shaped void he'd left.

  
“We should talk,” Michael said.

  
Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. We probably should.”

  
Michael shut his textbook and sighed. He put it on his desk and resituated himself so he was facing Jeremy.

  
“So,” Michael began lamely.

  
“So…”

  
They both seemed to suffocate in the tense silence. Jeremy was still standing awkwardly by the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob in case of an emergency situation where he had to run out as soon as possible.

  
“You should sit down.”

  
“Oh, yeah. Right.”

  
Jeremy walked over to his bed and sat. He fidgeted with his duvet, rubbing it with his fingers.

  
They both stared at each other, both unwilling to talk first.

  
“So… how were you after I… ‘left’ you?” Michael asked.

  
Jeremy shifted uncomfortably. “I was, uh, okay. I was fine,” Jeremy said. “How were your classes?”

  
“They were good. Don't change the subject.”

  
“Shouldn't we just do this another day—”

  
“No, because if we don't talk now, we never will!”

  
Jeremy bit the inside of his cheek. “Do we really have to do this now?”

  
“We do.”

  
“Fine. Isn't it obvious? I was depressed. I was suicidal. And then Christine, the embodiment of happiness she is came into my life to be my personal ray of sunshine. There.”

  
Michael eyed him for several seconds before he spoke. “I'm sorry,” he said.

  
“It's okay.”

  
“Is it?”

  
_Maybe. Not really. No._ “Yes.”

  
Michael finally made eye contact with him. Jeremy watched as Michael opened his mouth to speak.

  
“Y'know, if it makes you feel better, I regretted saying what I did as soon as I said it. I just remember seeing your face… you looked a kicked puppy, Jere. You were crying so much and I just… I don't know. I couldn't handle it. But then, the next day, I realized how much happier I had been with you that week compared to right then. And then I realized how hard you were trying to piece our relationship back together again and… even though I had wanted that so badly too… I pushed you away.”

  
Michael suddenly looked back up to Jeremy. “I guess, what I'm trying to say is. I'm sorry.”

  
“I know you are. It's okay. I mean, I was a being an asshole too—”

  
“No! You've had your time to apologize back then. Now's my turn.”

  
Before Michael could launch into another self-deprecating apology, Jeremy yawned. “Michael?”

  
Michael glanced at the clock on the table and nodded curtly. “That's right… Time's a thing,” Michael snorted. “Well. We should probably go to sleep, huh?”

 

Jeremy wordlessly slipped the duvet over his body. He quickly distributed his shirt and jeans underneath the covers, tossing them onto the floor lazily. He cuddled his pillow, squeezing tightly.

  
He could sense Michael hesitating behind him. Eventually, the room's lights turned off, and Jeremy could hear creaking as Michael's bed shifted, adjusting to its user.

  
He listened enviously as sleep quickly and effortlessly reached Michael.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should have a new chapter up sooner than i put this one up. but i guess we'll see how that goes lol
> 
> kudos are much appreciated :)


	3. winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though it seemed at times as if classes would never end, the first semester of freshman year flew by in a rush. Before Jeremy knew it, they'd plunged straight into December and near the beginning of spring semester (though why it was called it “spring” Jeremy wasn't sure—with the biting cold it certainly didn't feel like spring was coming any time soon).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i felt pretty motivated to write today, and while i initially planned on posting wednesday, i decided "fuck it," so i posted this today. i haven't looked over it fully yet, so i hope it isn't too terrible. but i hope you enjoy reading this chapter ;)

Though it seemed at times as if classes would never end, the first semester of freshman year flew by in a rush. Before Jeremy knew it, they'd plunged straight into December and near the beginning of spring semester (though why it was called it “spring” Jeremy wasn't sure—with the biting cold it certainly didn't feel like spring was coming any time soon).

 

This meant a new schedule to adjust to, new textbooks to buy, and a whole new pile of work to complete as soon as it was assigned. But on this Monday, with the roads iced over and classes canceled, Jeremy wasn't going to worry about any of that.

 

For once, he was content to kick back in the lounge with Christine, Michael, Rich, Brooke, and Chloe (all of whom had been visiting him and Michael on campus over the weekend, only to be stuck there when the snow fell).

 

“Hey, wanna go see a movie?” Rich asked the group one day.

 

“How are we going to get there?” Chloe asked. “I don't want to drive in this weather.”

 

“It's not as bad as it looks,” Jeremy stated, looking down at his phone with disinterest.

 

“Still,” Chloe said wrapping her blanket tighter around her. “This cold sucks. I hate winter here.”

 

“We could watch a movie in our room,” Michael suggested. “I have a ton of cool sci-fi stuff, and Jeremy's got like every musical ever made. Or we could rent one!” He added cheerfully.

 

“Sounds fun,” Christine sat up in interest. “That okay with everyone?”

 

Everyone murmured in agreement for the plan.

 

“Great! So it's settled! I say we watch Mamma Mia!”

* * *

“C'mon Jerry! Hurry up with the popcorn! We all wanna watch Back to the Future!” Brooke shouted from the other room.

 

“Coming!”

 

Jeremy impatiently, tapping his foot, waiting for the popcorn to stop popping.

 

The microwave began to beep, and Jeremy tapped the open button. The door of the microwave flew out, narrowly missing his face. He grabbed the bag of popcorn, wincing as it burned his fingers.

 

He poured the popcorn into a bowl and nodded.

 

He exited his small kitchen that came with the dorm. He sat himself in between Michael and Christine, edging closer to Christine. He grabbed a handful of popcorn and plopped the kernels into his mouth.

* * *

Jeremy had no idea how alcohol had gotten involved. All he knew was that they were playing Drunk Jenga. Probably not the best idea. But whenever you were drunk, anything and everything sounded like a fun time.

 

After about an hour of that, Michael leaned back in his seat. “Fuck this shit, 'm fuckin' bored,” Michael slurred drunkenly.

 

Jeremy nodded sluggishly in agreement while Rich, Christine, Chloe, and Brooke stared intensely at the wooden tower that was somehow less tipsy than they all were.

 

“H-h-h-heeey! Where d'ya think yer goin'?” Rich asked as they both stood from the table, stumbling on their way to the door.

 

“W-w-we're g-goin' out,” Jeremy stuttered. If he was sober, he would've grimaced. He hated his stutter and was always secretly glad that the SQUIP gotten rid of it. But every time he got drunk, his stutter always returned.

 

They somehow made it out the door, Jeremy and Michael running into numerous amounts of their possessions while they did. They burst into fits of giggles every time.

 

When they closed the door behind themselves, they were both giggling to each other.

 

“Oh, f-fuck!” Jeremy exclaimed all of a sudden. Michael gave him a quizzical look.

 

“I-I-It's cold!” Jeremy chattered.

 

It took a few seconds for Michael to process Jeremy's words. Then his mouth opened to an o shape. He nodded his head.

 

Jeremy bolted back into the dorm, grabbing his ear muffs and a navy blue hoodie. He slipped the hoodie over his cardigan and placed the earmuffs over his ears.

 

He ran back outside to the outdoor hallway, joining Michael. Michael hadn't wandered far, so it was easy to find him.

 

He ran up to Michael, narrowly avoiding falling onto his face. Michael looked at him and grabbed his hand. He drags them both to the stairs. They walk hand in hand down the stairs, goofy smiles on their lips.

 

“C'mere,” Michael said, taking Jeremy by the wrist. Jeremy complied and let Michael lead the way.

 

They stopped in the middle of the other college dorms, stopping behind a streetlight.

 

Jeremy and Michael were both giggling from each other's drunken antics. They sat down on the concrete together, brushing away freshly fallen snow before they sat down.

 

Michael shifted and frowned. “Jesus fuckin' Christ, this concrete is sticky! Did someone drop glue or somethin' here?”

 

Jeremy chortled. “W-what?” Jeremy asked. He tilted his head to the side.

 

Michael looked at him. “The ground! It's sticky like, like, uh, like glue!”

 

Jeremy erupted into gasping laughter that brought tears to his eyes. Michael sat there silently for a second before joining in on the laughter. They were wallowing and clutching each other while they laughed like giddy grade-schoolers.

 

Jeremy propped himself up on his elbows, noticing that Michael had gone quiet. He was staring at Jeremy, his eyes highlighted by the streetlight and glazed over. It made Jeremy self-conscious and he began to fidget with his coat. Drinking normally amplified his anxiety rather than decreased it, but he'd never been anxious with Michael when they'd snuck into Michael's moms' liquor cabinet when they were sixteen, drinking together. Maybe that was because times had changed. Michael was no longer his best friend and it was even debatable to call him a friend. But maybe there was another reason, a reason buried and repressed by Jeremy years ago-

 

His thoughts were interrupted when Michael began stroking his earmuffs. Jeremy jerked back, breaking the contact between him and Michael. Jeremy stared at Michael as the boy in question began to laugh uncontrollably.

 

“Yer… face!” Michael choked out eventually.

 

Jeremy watched with fondness that he hadn't held towards Michael in ages as Michael borderline rolled around on the ground in hysterics.

 

Jeremy began to reach for Michael's hand as he calmed, but Michael caught his hand in his own before he touched him. Jeremy startled, drawing back, trying to slip his hand out of Michael's. But Michael held on with a surprisingly hard grip.

 

When Jeremy looked into his eyes once again, Michael's expression was intense, almost threatening.

 

For a moment, Jeremy thought maybe he was angry, but before he could ponder it further, Michael yanked Jeremy to him and covered Jeremy's mouth with his in a hungry kiss. Jeremy froze, surprise lacing his features. His eyes went wide as his face went bright red, and not from the cold. Michael's mouth was warm, despite the chilly air. His grip tightened on Jeremy's hand, pulling him into Michael, pressing himself into Jeremy.

 

His hungry mouth melded into Michael's, the arctic chill forgotten. The tip of Michael's tongue brushed Jeremy's lips, insistent, and Jeremy opened to let him in, welcomed the urgent thrusting that sent a wildfire of searing flames racing through his body.

 

Jeremy clung to him in some alternative universe of longing. He held on for his life.

 

Michael's grip loosened and his hand fell to Jeremy's arm. Jeremy's hand strayed from Michael's jawline, his hand faltering to his mouth. The breath shared between them was crisp and sobered them up ever so slightly with each inhale. However, they didn't pull away.

 

[xxx](https://jeremyistheintrovertheere.tumblr.com/post/178165068144)

 

There were only inches between them on their precarious perch. There may as well have been worlds.

 

“We should probably get back,” Michael murmured. “They'll probably start lookin' for us soon. Probably think we have hypothermia.”

 

“We p-probably d-d-do.”

 

Michael smiled softly. He stumbled to his feet and offered a shaking hand to Jeremy. Jeremy accepted it and was helped to his feet.

 

They walked back to their dorm, for the space of a held breath there was silence. Jeremy watched wordlessly as Michael fished for the key to their dorm, finally finding it and unlocking the door.

 

They walked through the threshold. There, Brooke, Chloe, and Rich were passed out at the kitchen table, a stack of fallen wooden planks sitting in the center of the table.

 

Jeremy looked around and saw Christine sleeping on the pitiful excuse for a couch Michael had picked up from the streets on the way back from his job.

 

Jeremy sighed and shuffled to his room. He kicked open the door and basked in the quietness of his room.

 

What had _happened_ tonight?

 

Jeremy walked over to his bed. He could vaguely feel his damp jeans and hoodie clinging to him. He took off his earmuffs and slipped his hoodie over his head. He shrugged his cardigan off. He unzipping his jeans, making sure only to focus on the simple, mundane task at hand. He kept his mind and fingers busy, refusing to spare tonight a thought.

 

He was finally only in his boxers, and even they seemed wet. He quickly changed into a new set of boxers, slipped a fuzzy sweater over his torso to calm his constant shivering, turned off the lights, and climbed into bed. He could distantly hear Michael enter the room while he was on the brink of sleep.

 

He squeezed his eyes tight and willingly let sleep overtake him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have an idea of what'll happen next chapter, but haven't yet written it, so the next chapter will probably be released later than this one was.
> 
>  
> 
> kudos are much appreciated :)


	4. hangovers are hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: vivid descriptions of vomiting

When Jeremy woke up the next morning, he took it easy in an effort to keep from upsetting his stomach. But his methods did not work, as he felt bile rise to his throat.

Jeremy sprang out of bed, holding a hand to his mouth tightly to keep from vomiting, and rushed to the bathroom. He opened the door and kneeled down at his porcelain throne. His stomach contracted so violently that he’d barely had time to reach the toilet. Chunks of food surged up from his throat and into the waiting toilet bowl with a sickening _plop_. Jeremy heaved again. As he began to stop, he tried moving to a better, more comfortable position. He sank to his knees and laid his forehead on the cool porcelain. Before the smell could get to him and make him vomit once more, he flushed the toilet.

Jeremy wiped at his mouth, acidic residue forming a shiny patch on the sweater he’d worn to bed last night.

As he sluggishly moved from his spot on the ground, he realized how bad his head hurt now that his stomach had calmed. It felt as though someone was forcefully squeezing his skull and his brain was stubbornly yelling no. No matter how many times he’d been hungover, he would never get used to the migraines.

He limped over to the bathroom sink. Jeremy turned on the lights to see and cringed. He squinted his eyes, his headache becoming more pronounced. He waited it out until the pain in his head went back to a dull throb.

Jeremy grabbed his toothbrush and lathered the bristles with toothpaste. Throwing up sucked, but the aftertaste was much worse; it was enough to make him begin gagging. He wet the toothbrush when he was done, rinsing it. He placed it in the toothbrush holder and eyed Michael’s burgundy toothbrush.

Jeremy grabbed his sweater and tugged it over his head. He flung it to the side, doing the same with his boxers when he took them off.

He trudged over to the shower. He turned the water on, watching tiredly as hot water spouted from the shower nozzle. He climbed into the shower/tub, closing his eyes in comfort as his tenseness was washed away by the hot water. He felt the steam cling to his face and he sighed.

He spent about thirty minutes in there, soothing his tense and aching muscles before he reached for the towel. He gingerly dried every inch of his newly clensed body.

Jeremy tied the towel around his waist. He quietly made his way back to his room, looking around the small dorm on his way for any sign of life. Rich and Brooke were still asleep at the table, but Christine and Chloe weren't anywhere in sight.

Jeremy entered his room, careful to not wake Michael up. He changed into his favorite pair of pajamas, slipping on socks.

He decided he’d decline his body’d desperate pleads to just go to sleep, so he decided to eat something.

He trudged out of his room, heading to the small kitchen. There, Chloe was sitting at the kitchen table, munching on something while she ran her hands through her messy hair. Jeremy reached for the saltines in his cupboards, not trusting his stomach to handle any other food. He poured himself a full glass of water, taking big, gulping sips. It took care of his dehydration and soothed his migraine for a minute.

He sat down next to the unconscious Brooke and Rich and nibbled on his saltines, avoiding Chloe’s persistent eye contact. They said nothing for a while, and Jeremy had almost eaten all of the saltines on his plate when Chloe opened her mouth to talk.

“Last night was crazy, huh?” Chloe asked with a small smile.

Jeremy pursed his lips together. He nodded.

“Hangover?”

Jeremy nodded again, though that still didn’t explain his sour mood.

“I bet. You drank a lot last night.”

Jeremy snorted. “That’s putting it delicately.”

Chloe snickered. The two were silent once more. Eventually, Jeremy was done eating and quickly rinsed his dishes. He went back to his room to rest some more, only to bump into Michael.

“Holy—” Jeremy said, placing a hand over his mouth. Michael looked terrible, possibly even worse than Jeremy himself had. There were dark smudges underneath his eyes and his eyes were bloodshot. Beads of sweat were trailing down his ashen face.

Jeremy wordlessly stepped aside, getting out of Michael’s way. Michael avoided Jeremy's gaze warily.

 _Odd,_ Jeremy thought to himself. _Why was Michael acting so… aloof?_

Had something happened?

Suddenly it all came flooding back to Jeremy.

Playing Jenga. Sitting with Michael behind the streetlight. _Kissing Michael…_

“I’m so fucked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! sorry for my delay of writing and putting this chapter out. i've been pretty busy lately, what with school and my love life, so i haven't really had the time or the motivation to write this. i just got over this massive writers block where i had to kind of change my writing style, so there's that. 
> 
> so, this one was more of a filler chapter, meant to sort of move the plot along. so, keep in mind, the next few chapters will (hopefully) be better!!! maybe even longer too… who knows?!

**Author's Note:**

> heyyy this is unedited and un-betaed so this might've been really fucking bad. screw it. i'm too tired to care at this point.


End file.
